


fidelis

by Medie



Category: Veritas: The Quest
Genre: Gen, Yuletide 2008
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-25
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-17 20:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/180812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We need answers, Solomon. Nikko needs answers. You concern yourself with finding them and I will keep Dorna away from him."</p>
            </blockquote>





	fidelis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mojave Dragonfly (Dragonfly)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonfly/gifts).



> much thanks to havocthecat and azarsuerte, for - yet again - letting me pick their brains. many, many thinks to storydivagirl for the beta. story takes place immediately post-series.

Whether he understands it or not, Nikko can feel it long before it happens. Vincent can see it in the way the boy carries himself and the way he looks at the world around him, just like his father. Solomon has always understood more than he has realized and he has passed such onto his son.

Vincent is aware of what happened to the boy's mother, at least so much as what Dorna could surmise. Reading the statement left by the witness, the expedition guide, it's clear that Nikko was nearly caught in the event.

That is what Vincent knows. What he suspects is far more complicated.

"The boy is changing, Solomon," he says. Two mugs of coffee sit, untouched, on the table between them. The steam wafts into the air between them, curling before his friend's face, shadowed in the faint light from the desk lamp. "He has been for a while." That it likely began to happen the the moment Haley Zond disappeared, he is wise enough not to say.

There is a suggestion there that Solomon will not want to hear. The man fears little, less than he should, less than Vincent is comfortable with, but he does fear one thing. Ironically, it is something that scares Vincent as well. Solomon's fear of losing Nikko could very well be paralyzing. Vincent does not wish to consider what would happen to Solomon if it should ever happen.

The very real possibility it might be happening now and has been for years, looms large in their conversation. Vincent dares not put it into words.

"I know," Solomon nods. It's reluctant, but between them no lies are permitted. Even to one's self. "I saw the tape too."

"Telekinesis." Vincent picks up his mug. The ceramic is still warm against his skin. He sinks back into his chair, boneless in the movement. They are alone. The others gone for the night. Juliet and Maggie keeping their destinations to themselves, Calvin to a club, and Nikko - well, Vincent is pretending not to know. The boy must have some freedoms, however limited they might be.

At any rate, they are alone for now, truly alone. He has swept the room for listening devices, activated others to ensure their privacy. They can discuss this here and nowhere else. He knows his former colleagues too well to believe otherwise.

He clears his throat, quietly adding, "There are rumors about such gifts." He has read the stories himself. Seen the legends surrounding their Ancient forebearers. The idea of what Nikko might become sets his heart to racing and his mind to planning. Dorna must _never_ know. The possibility of them discovering Nikko's secret is the first thing in many years which truly terrifies him.

"Yeah, I know that too."

This time, Solomon sounds irritable, but Vincent is not deterred. It has been many, many years since such a tone would have given him concern.

Behind the safety of his mug, he smiles. Not that it ever truly did.

"The Ancients -- "

"My son is not one of the Ancients, Vincent." Solomon snatches up the mug, spilling coffee on his hand. He curses and sucks the skin. Vincent does not say anything to that, simply sips his own drink with satisfaction. "Nikko is fine."

"Perhaps better than fine." He keeps his tone noncommittal, as neutral as possible. He has long since learned the secrets of conversing with Solomon, but mastering them has proven difficult.

Solomon raises an eyebrow. " _Vincent_ , you can't mean what I think you do." He puts down his mug, still untouched. Maggie would chide him, save for his alarming dependence on coffee. "Nikko is not _transforming_ into an Ancient."

"Can you for certain say that he is not?" asks Vincent. "The temple, so many years later, remains dormant, Solomon. We have never discovered what it is capable of. Every expert that Dorna sent in to activate the device has failed. In all that time, no one has yet to replicate the scenario that the guide described. We cannot be sure, Solomon, what it can do or the effect it might have on a person. Nikko is the only example that we have."

"And what?" asks Solomon. There's anger in his voice, real anger, but Vincent dare not stop. Not even when he adds, "Exactly what are you trying to imply here, Vincent? That my wife and child were -- " he breaks off, shaking his head. "No."

"I am not saying they are Ancient, Solomon." Vincent puts down his mug, keeping his tone even. "I am saying there is more to them than we understand. You agree the boy is changing and you agree he is developing powers that were once only attributed to the Ancients. We know that your wife is the only person to bring the temple to life. Is it so insane to suggest they might yet have some unknown connection to the Ancients?"

Solomon glares at him, rage smoldering within the look. Vincent merely smiles, just the slightest upturn of the lips, and waits. The rage burns down, as all fires do, and in time Solomon simply looks weary.

"He deserves better." Exhaustion laces every word, tugging at Vincent as well.

Vincent nods. "So do you."

"I don't want to know, Vincent," Solomon admits. "Everything in me is screaming it. If something's going on with my son, I don't want to know."

"Knowing makes it real," Vincent says, noncommittal. He watches, silent, as Solomon abandons his coffee and chair to pacing. He eats up the floor in long strides which take him in a circuit about the room. He allows Solomon the luxury of a few seconds grace, time alone to do battle with his fears, before he finally does speak. "It is real, Solomon. It is happening."

Solomon lashes out. A vase shatters against the floor, pieces skittering across the tile to Vincent's feet. He raises one brow.

"You're lucky that's a replica."

"I don't care." Solomon turns his back, staring out at the city. "I never wanted this for him. If Dorna finds out -- "

Vincent nods, not caring if Solomon can see him or not. The promise is made as much to himself as it is to his friend. "I will kill every last one of them before I will let Dorna have him."

He has shed blood for Dorna, so much he cannot properly process it all. He has shed _Solomon's_ blood. There are many things in his life he regrets. So many regrets and so many sins which he can never hope to atone for, but he can begin here.

"We need answers, Solomon. Nikko needs answers. You concern yourself with finding them and I will keep Dorna away from him."

Solomon looks back, his eyes tortured. "I can't lose him, Vincent."

Vincent rises, joining him at the window, watching as Solomon hangs his head and closes his eyes. There are many things he can say. So many promises that he might make, but the words will not come. He can think of nothing which will change the exhaustion in his friend's stance.

He settles for a nod and a hand on Solomon's shoulder. It's all the promise they'll ever need. Vincent has no true answers for the events that lie ahead, but he is certain. Solomon's search is his search for as long as Solomon has need of him.

It is but the very least that he can do.

  



End file.
